Recessional, Chronicle of a Death Foretold
by Candy Apple Heart Attack
Summary: Snapshots of the trainwreck that no one could have stopped, especially those who had all the power in the world to do so. LXLight. Character Death.
1. Beautiful

Ladies, gents, and those of those of other galaxies, Dale here with a series of drabbles written to Vienna Teng's "Recessional". They offer glimpses of moments between L and Light in the days prior to L's death.

I don't own the song or the DN characters, though it would be fantabulous. I just own...me. Not even -- Chip owns me.

**This is part 1 or 5.** I truly hope you enjoy these flickerflashes, hopefully while listening to the amazing song that inspired me.

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**1. Beautiful**

Higuchi was dead and his secret killing method had finally been revealed.

The murder weapon was a killer notebook belonging to a god of death.

The notebook was currently in the custody of the task force, as was the otherworldly specter that claimed to be attached to the notebook. L had spent several hours questioning the shinigami and taking notes on its answers, while Light documented the day's proceedings into their case archives and gathered all the paperwork necessary for records, including photos of the evidence and other effects.

L noticed twice during his questioning, that Rem, the death god, had glanced at Light in a peculiar way, as if she knew him from somewhere. Light had stared back at the shinigami, his face not giving away a single clue as to whether or not the shinigami and he had ever crossed paths.

Light finished taking care of the paperwork and declared he was going to bed. L raised a hand in acknowledgment to the brunette, but didn't turn to look at him. He continue to ask Rem questions, while pouring over the files Light had just arranged, checking to see if everything was in place.

It was just L, Light, Watari, and Rem in the building. Everyone else had gone home to get well-deserved rest after such a grueling manhunt. The older man had long since retired to his quarters, not before mentioning to L that he was free to call him should he need anything.

A few minutes after Light had retired, Rem fell silent and no longer answered questions for L. The shinigami just hovered around the room harmlessly, silently taking in its surroundings – L included. The detective chose to ignore the ghostly entity wandering around the room, in favor of examining every inch of the notebook from cover to cover. He wanted to spend whatever was left of the evening pouring over the mysterious notebook and master all its secrets, but his instincts were pulling his concentration away, focusing it on his brunette partner.

It had been a hectic day, to say the least, and his body was clamoring for the honey-eyed boy's company. L's mind, however, wanted to see the boy because he was not sure of something. The moment Light had touched the Death Note, something had changed in him. L could not say what, nor point it out, but he could feel the change there, just drifting and lurking behind those youthful eyes.

Like always, L cannot produce solid evidence against Light; all he ever comes up with is the ugly, nagging doubt that tear his mind into confetti, trying to figure out the enigma of the man-child named Light.

The changes in Light, no one could see them with the naked eye, but L knew Light better than anyone.

Something had changed, but what?

L wishes Rem a good evening and retires from the investigation room in search of Light.

L checked the bathroom, knowing Light never went to bed without a shower, no matter what the circumstance, but the brunette was not there.

L checked Light's bedroom, the kitchen and the roof, but he is not there.

L's best bet in finding his missing lover is the surveillance station. He was surprised to see Light tucked into bed in L's bedroom – a place where the detective has never properly stayed the night in, especially not since Light had come into the picture at the Task Force Headquarters. Both he and Light had stayed in Light's bedroom since the beginning of the investigation, physically handcuffed, mentally engaged, and emotionally attached.

The detective set his course for his own bedroom, entering it and finding Light in bed, just as he had seen him on the feed. It seemed Light had deliberately come here to wait for him.

L was moved by the sight of a smiling Light softly patting the spot on the bed next to him. The combination of flannel pajamas, satin sheets, soft skin, dim lights, and the brunette's bright smile transformed the four walls into a personal and intimate space – something crucial that the room had always lacked and L alone had not been able to create. For the first time, L felt the room could truthfully be called a bedroom and a place where he could rest.

L's musings were interrupted by the rustling of the sheets against the brunette's pajamas. Light moved toward L and pulled him onto the bed where they met in a warm hug and a soft kiss.

It was a beautiful moment L intended to share for a long time.

They made love that night, and for that night only, L was willing to forget the faint suspicion that Light had changed since the discovery of the Death Note. The doubt and curiosity had gnawed at the back of his mind since the moment he had seen Light's beautiful hand touch the weathered book. Nevertheless, he settled for casting his suspicions aside for the sake of relishing the moment.

As dawn drew near, Light rested in L's embrace and asked L where their relationship would go after the Kira case was closed. L told him he would probably stick around Japan until the brunette graduated from To-Oh and was admitted into the police force. After that, L could easily take him in and they could work together. In the meantime, L could enlist Light's help as a consultant if he so needed the boy, much like the task force had done during the Kira case.

Light told L he liked the sound of that plan and slowly drifted into sleep in the arms of the detective.

While Light dozed peacefully against his chest, L remained awake replaying many a scene in his head – from the moment the Task Force set out to capture Higuchi up until the previous moments where light had fallen asleep after their talk about their post-Kira relationship.

As he looked for answers among his memories, the detective also wondered if he would be around long enough to put those plans he had talked to Light about into action without being killed by Kira.

He did not sleep that night. Dawn and its red-orange veil found the raven-haired detective watching Light breathe slowly in peaceful slumber and hoping that, for once, his intuition was wrong, even though it never was.

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**A/N:** Yes, Dale is back with all sorts of ideas for the holiday season. I'm planning a companion piece to The Great Destroyer. I also have most of the next chapter of RUTH, and I have most of the next three drabbles pertaining to this series. Hope you like this.

Thank you to all who review - they make me and the missus very happy and honored. And those who don't but still read, thank you too.

-Das Dale.


	2. Dissenter

Hello, Dale here… with the second part of this series. Have you noticed the sudden posting frenzy of drabbles Chip and I are in? Yeah, those are brought on by kicked puppyness, as I call it, and post-semester stress release. Enjoy them to the max!

This second drabble takes place the day following the capture of Higuchi, a.k.a the first drabble. Enjoy and review. Don't own, didn't happen in this particular manner.

**Part 2 of 5.**

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**2. Dissenter**

It was a rather pleasant day outside, but L and Light had no way of knowing that, having locked themselves inside the building, working the daylight hours away in the main investigation room. They might have caught the Yotsuba Kira, as they all had come to call Higuchi, but the first and second Kiras were still at large, even if they had seemingly gone underground.

No longer wearing the handcuffs, Light was free to sit across the room from L, who paced slowly while he absentmindedly sucked on a teaspoon. Light watched L from his seat and thought about how close Kira was to killing the pacing detective. Part of him rejoiced in the thought; the other part of him felt conflicted due to his compromised feelings about L.

L caught Light staring at him and he stared right back, cutting Light open with the gaze and dissecting him with the sharp scrutiny his eyes held. Evert he great actor, Light managed to keep his face and body language from betraying all his convoluted thoughts. Regardless of his great act, Light still hoped L did not see through his façade, since the ravenette seemed to have a knack for doing it to everyone else.

The brunette could see the lover reflected in his eyes, but he could also see the dissenter who believed in Light's innocence as much as he believe that the earth was flat. The brunette youth felt unnerved by the weight of L's gaze across the room, but he opted for remaining quiet. He tried to think of things less compromising, but his thoughts always brought him to the withering intensity if the detective's gaze.

As much as Light didn't want L looking at him like that, there was a part of him that was secretly thrilled by L's attention. It was the same part that dreaded L's demise at the hands of Kira.

Light simply did not know how long he could behold those piercing obsidian orbs before they fizzled out and faded away like a dying heartbeat.

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**A/N:** Yes! I mastered the art of the tiny drabble! I am proud. Anyway, more to come, hope you liked, review…yadda yadda. See ya later, peeps.

This series is dedicated to Chip. Without her inspiration I would have never written anything shorter than three novels. Lol. And to the readers, of course. Anything to amuse you, darlings.

-Das Dale


	3. Terminal

Here's part three. Almost done with this short series. Enjoy.

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**3. Terminal**

It was late, the hours were sluggish and the influx of information was slow. Although there was not much to do, L insisted on pouring over evidence over and over, reading, searching, scheming.

Light sat next to him, ever the faithful companion, the accidental sidekick; the friend and the foe. But that was something L didn't have to know. Both sat next to each other at the computer terminal, immersed in the world of Kira, working endlessly to catch a shadow that could slip through fingers like warm sand at a beach.

Watari was in the kitchen, making tea, while Rem hovered behind their chairs, all-seeing eyes fixated upon the fluorescent numbers floating distortedly above the detective's head.

The countdown drew close to its culmination and its imperceptible weight hung over the detective's head, ready to drop at any moment that could put Misa in danger. The shinigami spread her wide, bat-like white wings and disappeared to some place no one was aware of, leaving both suspect and detective working in silence.

But only the detective seemed to be working at that time. Light's exhaustion had finally caught up with him and the young brunette had fallen asleep.

Light's head had lolled to one side and dropped gently upon L's shoulder. The detective did not flinch, but he was certainly startled. He hadn't expected Light to fall asleep so suddenly. As much as he wanted to wake the youth up, he just couldn't. The forward spill of the brunette's hair was subtle and graceful; the small 'o' of his open mouth, lips parted and plump, was heart-breaking and adorable.

Suddenly, L had found himself paralyzed by the proximity of Light, afraid to move.

He was afraid to move because he could potentially wake up Light; but he was more afraid to make a move, fearing that he might find the guilt in Light he had been looking for all along at the very moment he wanted to ignore it. He did not want to move, afraid of what he might see, afraid to have his prayers answered.

So he watches Light dream over the whirring noises of the computer terminal, over the noise Watari made as he set up a cup of tea for L that he didn't dare touch, and the frenetic pounding of L's heart against the cage of his chest.

Maybe those changes he thought he could see meant nothing, but he was afraid to move.

He knew that if he did so, he would see every missing link.

Certainly they did, but maybe, just maybe, they didn't.

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A/N: Have a nice day. There ain't much to say at this point.


	4. Stranger

Here I am, debating whether or not to give this a sixth part... I've changed my mind a good three times since I started writing the series last night...or this morning, technically. But anyway, I'll make the announcement once I finally decide on the next hour or so, since it looks like I'm on a roll with this. Anyway, listen, read, enjoy.

I know I had something else to say, but I have forgotten. Oh, well... tell ya later. Go read.

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**4. Stranger**

Despite the turn of events at headquarters regarding the Kira case, L and Light still found time to carry on with their routine of having morning coffee by themselves, of L laying in bed while Light got dressed, of sharing a long kiss before entering the work place, of holding conversations at intellectual levels that no other member could fully comprehend, of watching each other out of the corner of the eye, of making love urgently at night, of holding on each other afterwards.

Despite the comfort and normalcy their relationship seemed to still experience, L still searched for clues, clues that would reveal to him just how much Light had really changed since the discovery of the Death Note.

But L wasn't coming up with much. Looking at the brunette in such a paranoid way hurt him inside more than he would ever admit. He was hell-bent on seeing something he really didn't want to see inside his only friend, his lover, the equal he believed to love more than life itself.

Duty was duty and he couldn't shirk it. Justice was a part of him just as Light was, except justice had to be a bigger part…it just had to be.

When Light drank his coffee, no sugar, as always, L questioned the existence of the man who was supposed to be his partner.

Who are you, stranger?

When Light spoke softly under the cover of the night and the blankets, L found himself weighing the truth and the lie in the brunette's words.

Do I mean everything to you? Nothing?

What about the words you speak?

L questioned Light's every move, look, touch. It was torture to do so, but his sense of justice had been ingrained in his mind far longer than the memories of Light ghosting over his skin and swirling around in his mind.

It hurt to question Light's kiss. His mouth was always so pliable, so yielding, so strong, but so soft. Each kiss from the brunette's mouth tore a prayer from L's speechless mouth, a prayer that clamored, kicked, screamed, begged for his intuition to be misled, misconstrued…

Wrong. For once in his life, he wished his all his heart he was wrong. But his mind knew he was unerringly right.

He didn't want to look at Light as a shell of the lover he had once had, but somehow it was. He couldn't explain it, but he somehow knew it.

As was always the case with Light – a bright flame surrounded by a veil of darkness so thick and black, it was almost impossible to break. But he knew he would look for a chink until he found it, against his will.

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A/N: Here we are, nearing the end on this. Listening to Vienna Teng's "Recessional" and "My Medea" while writing/reading this screams "cry, cry, cry". Reviews are always appreciated, welcome, and enjoyed. Even if you don't leave one, a thank you is still in order.

-Das Dale


	5. Rain

Gomen, I'm so stupid…of course this needs a sixth part. It will be done. Anyway, back to your regular programming.

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**5. Rain**

Words in the rain get carried away by the wind and washed away by water.

Light kept trying to ask L was he was doing up on the roof, during a storm, all by himself.

L had pretended not to hear the brunette's question, forcing Light to stand beside him and be drenched from head to toe by the outpour. It was perhaps a childish notion, but L hoped the falling water would wash away all traces of deceit from Light and the traces of doubt from him; maybe that way he wouldn't hurt himself with the thoughts that the brunette was guilty of crime.

It also served to wash away and camouflage the unstoppable tears leaking from his eyes. That was the first time looking at Light had hurt enough to make him cry, and perhaps it was the last.

Or so the bells seemed to say.

L knew Light wouldn't hear the bells, but he mentioned them anyway.

Naturally, Light could not hear any. They only echoed with deafening clangs inside L's mind, announcing the end of something was near – him.

Maybe a wedding…or a funeral. Maybe he was wrong…or he was right.

Death had never been a bitter thought for L; he had always been so rational and calculating about such a natural phenomena of life, but it was difficult not to be afraid now, as he faced his end so clearly and yet so obscured by the binds of a love that should have never been, but was.

A love with the intensity of a shooting star that burns brightly as it soars, but fizzles tragically as it plummets down and finally disappears.

Sumimasen. He said he was sorry when Light had told him to stop say such useless things. He was indeed sorry.

He was sorry he had apologized in such a formal way, a way that only people who are not close to each other can apologize.

He was sorry for making Light get wet when he knew the brunette was so strict about being presentable at all times.

He was sorry he could not lie to himself to save whatever relationship he had with Light, as fragile and forbidden as it might be.

He was sorry that he hadn't been strong enough to resist his attraction to Light.

And the strangest regret of all, he was sorry for not having given himself to Light more freely than what he had.

Sumimasen – the word was everything and nothing, but it was only L who seemed to think so.

Images of Wammy's flickered and flashed in L's head, punctuated by memories of unguarded moments between Light and himself.

He was grateful to the rain for hiding the renegade tears escaping his eyes and making a break for it all the way down his pale, gaunt cheeks.

After being close enough to be lovers, drifting away to become strangers was the biggest pain of love. Being within reach of what you want most, yet miles away is the tragedy of love, and it was now that L saw why he had never trusted anyone enough to love them.

It hurt like nothing else.

He was sure not even death hurt that much, but he couldn't be certain yet.

It was clever of Light to lie about lying. Again, L couldn't pinpoint why he felt Light lied all the time nowadays and back when he first met the young man, but he did.

The feeling was similar to opening a beautiful book written in language he could not read. He was sorry he couldn't read.

They entered the building again, leaving the rain behind, but not their troubles.

L kneeled before Light, trying to dry his feet. Light seemed shaky and jumped every time the detective's towel came in contact with Light's skin.

L wanted desperately to know why Light was reacting to his touch in such a way – was he aroused or repulsed by the feeling?

Light's face and strangled whimpers seemed just the same as to when they were in bed, making love and the brunette tried to keep himself from begging for more blissful caresses. But his over-sensitivity also felt like the brunette was trying to get away.

L could not tell the difference. It was scary and it hurt. It hurt like claw clenching around his throat, twisting and tearing, cutting out his breath.

Do you fear my touch, Judas?

Are you afraid I will wipe away your sheen of lies?

Who are you?

L couldn't see the truth and he was scared.

_What have you done to my Light?_

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_A/N: _And so we near the end....*sobs*

This might sound bad, but I'm glad Ohba and Obata were the ones to kill L. If it had been up to me, I'm not so sure I would have been able to do it. Just writing in stuff around the death is horrible enough...even I am not that heartless.

See ya at the next one, y'all.

-Das Dale.


	6. Curtain

My dears, this is the end of the road for this short-lived (pun intended) series. Hope you have enjoyed it, even if L does indeed die. That never gets less painful to watch. However, Light being a dick somehow is funny to me. I love L, but I'm a Yagami kid at heart.

Anyway, proceed.

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**6. Curtain**

It had finally happened. Something unexpected had happened to Watari and L now found himself staring at the whitened monitors indicating data deletion, the flashing of the alarms giving the room a terrifying glow and the task force members' screams contributing a macabre soundtrack to the overall scene.

Something unexpected had happened, unexpected like an unnatural death.

A pang of pain tore through L when the situation came crashing down onto reality. Watari was dead and he would never see his benefactor again.

What would happen to him? Would he die too?

The curtain was dropping and the sky was falling fast, but L's mind could work faster.

Kira was coming for him and the shinigami Rem had something to do with it.

L was about to point out the danger the shinigami posed when he finally felt it.

That unmistakable sign.

The reaper had finally written his name, and now the claw of death squeezed his horrified heart until it ceased to beat.

His thoughts drifted to Watari as he fell from his chair, but his thoughts drifted to Light when the impact of his fall was cushioned by the arms of the brunette catching him before he had a chance to hit the floor.

Snapshots of his life and garbled noises from his childhood flooded his awareness, revolving like a lantern, and plummeting quickly into the black hole of non-existence along with his consciousness.

L was heartbeats away from death, but it wasn't the Shinigami's magic that made his heart finally stop.

It was the devil's grin on Light's face finally revealing the truth that he had searched for in vain for so long. The irony of life had decided to crash upon him at the very moment of his death.

Light Yagami was Kira. The man he loved was indeed the very man he had sworn to catch. The man he loved was his murderer.

He wanted to scream his fear to the world, but his fear was not that he was dying in pain.

He wanted to scream his terror because he was dying in the arms of a stranger.

All he wanted to scream was one word: Light.

Not 'traitor', not 'help', not 'you're Kira'….but Light. The detective desperately wanted the real Light, the one that smiled when kissed, the one that hugged back when hugged, the one that loved him back with the intensity and passion of his youth.

_Light, my love, I need you… where did you go?_

He wanted to call out for the man he loved, but the fading flame in his heart went out, and with it, the light that had always made his obsidian eyes shine.

L's eyelids closed softly and slowly, bringing the oppressed lover inside the brunette to the surface to scream his lungs out at losing L.

But the tortured brunette had only seconds to shout out and cry his grief before Kira was back in control and used his loss to get himself a bigger gain. Kira took his anguish and warped it into a sinister freak show.

The Light L had been silently clamoring for had indeed been present at his side, but he had broken away from the murderer just a moment too late. L was never able to see his love pleading and screaming for him from behind the eyes of the murderer that had locked the true Light away.

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A/N: It's a wrap! See ya next time... I'll be working on some jrock fics for the next couple of days, but if I do get inspired to write some more DN, I'll post them as soon as I can write them.

-Das Dale


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